Category Archives: Drama

Smelling a rat in Homicide

I’ve tried, I really have, but oh, David Mamet, I just am not one of your fans. But if you do happen to be a fan of Mamet’s patented staccato speech patterns and twisty-turny plots and self-important awareness, that’s cool with me. We’ll just agree to disagree and not talk about Mamet when we meet up at dinner parties, ok? :)

The Mamet in question is the 1991 film Homicide, starring Joe Mantegna as conflicted Jewish cop Bobby Gold, and the other usual suspects of a Mamet film. Yeah, I’m probably going to get all kinds of cranky and all-capsy with this one. Fair warning. But bear with me, because there is an interesting library scene in this one.

*SPOILER ALERTS AND SNARKINESS THROUGHOUT*

So I won’t get too much into the plot, because really, what’s the point? It’s all a mirage, anyway. It’s a David Mamet film. The puzzle-within-the-puzzle-within-the-other-puzzle-you-didn’t-see-coming IS the point. Suffice to say, Detective Gold is investigating a minor case and gets involved with a secretive Jewish group, which makes him question his faith and self-worth, yada yada yada. Along the way, Gold finds a piece of paper with the word Grofaz scrawled across it, and later, about an hour in, some random Jewish shopkeeper tells him the word was another name for Hitler. Oooh, I smell research!

What? I'm a librarian. Sweater vests are awesome.

The camera immediately cuts to a man, a young white male, all buttoned-up, writing out what Grofaz means on a chalkboard (see above). At first, I was thinking, “Teacher?” But it turns out he’s the head librarian at a special library for Jewish studies, listed in the credits simply as Librarian (Steven Goldstein). The librarian reveals that Grofaz is an acronym for Größter Feldherr aller Zeiten, translating roughly to “the greatest strategist of all time.” I was intrigued.

But then the camera revealed a cigarette in the librarian’s hands. A cigarette! A smoldering flame around archival posters and propaganda ephemera. Dude, I know this is a Mamet film and all that, but seriously?! A cigarette in a modern library full of priceless archives? Nuh-uh. Not buying it. SMELLING A RAT #1.

So the reel librarian continues to puff on that cigarette, telling us all about the Grofaz strategy, which apparently was “an interesting attempt” by a special division of the Propaganda Ministry that “didn’t particularly take.” This mini-lecture takes us through most of the special library, where we get vistas of dark wood paneling, rows of tall bookcases, study tables, books piled up, etc. Plus, we get a split-second glimpse of another assistant in a white coat back in the maps room, listed as Library Technician (Andrew Potok).

Finally, head librarian stubs out the cigarette before reading from a “very rare” poster that highlights the Grofaz (see above).

Bobby Gold:  What do you have on the use of this word? Currently. Particularly in conjunction with anti-Semitic acts.

Librarian:  As I said, it’s an arcane usage, but we’ll look. We’ll take a look.

The librarian calls out to a colleague in the stacks. An older, grey-haired lady dressed all in grey (Charlotte Potok as Assistant Librarian) comes out of the stacks, carrying a clipboard and looking very serious (see below). The head librarian rattles off some directions, finally instructing her to “Bring it all,” and also instructs Gold to wait.

So while Gold is waiting (impatiently, I might add), he encounters some additional attitude from a Hasidic Jewish scholar, who basically ridicules him for not being able to read Hebrew. As he gets up, the scholar asks Gold to replace a book for him on the shelf. WTF?! Nuh-uh. (Side note:  We librarians generally prefer it if you don’t reshelve materials on your own. We are better able to make sure that items are placed back in the right locations, no offense, plus we also get to collect browsing stats. It’s a win-win for us, trust me. And don’t ask other patrons to shelve stuff for you. That’s just rude.)

And OF COURSE, while Gold is placing the book high on a shelf, he just happens to overhear a suspicious conversation between the head librarian and the grey lady assistant. SMELLING A RAT #2. 

Assistant Librarian:  The material on anti-Semitic acts.

Librarian:  Yes. I thought we had quite a file of current –

Assistant Librarian:  It was requested by 212.

Librarian:  212 wants it? [looks at envelope on clipboard]

Assistant Librarian:  Yes.

Librarian:  Loaned to 212 now? Fine. Then just pull the file.

Gold steps out as the grey lady steps away, and the librarian tells him, nope, they got nothing on the anti-Semitic acts in relation to Grofaz. 

Gold:  Nothing?

Librarian:  No.

Gold:  This is official police business.

Librarian:  Officer, you know I’d help you if I could, but as I said, it was rather arcane material. I’m sorry.

Gold:  Well, if there’s nothing you can do, there’s nothing you can do. Thank you.

Librarian:  Not at all. If there’s anything else I can help you with, let me know.

The librarian — after lighting up yet ANOTHER cigarette — walks down some stairs, leaving the clipboard and file out in the open. Yeah. Sure. SMELLING A RAT #3.

There is something you can do. You can take that cigarette out of your mouth.

So, OF COURSE, Gold leafs throught he oh-so-conveniently-placed clipboard (see above), and spots an address with “212″ in it. The next shot cuts to him at that location, and the plot continues to twist from there.

I’m sure you can tell by now how much this brief scene in this Class III film irritated me. The smug and dismissive attitude of this (mis)Information Provider librarian. The way he waved off his assistant. The clunky scene where the scholar tells him to shelve the book. Leaving the clipboard out. The cigarettes. The way the library is portrayed as yet another establishment — like the boys in blue? — insulated by its own rules and reasons and secrets, too easily influenced by outside pressures.

At the very end of the film, where Gold has lost everything, he gets handed a file. The final close-up reveals a newspaper advertisement for Grofazt, a type of pigeon feed. Was it all a set-up? That gotcha! moment so typical of Mamet. But what’s the point?

Looking for clues on how to answer that question, I did watch the other special features on this Criterion Collection disc, and I also rewatched the library scene with commentary by Mamet himself and co-star William H. Macy. The writer/director highlights Goldstein as the “go to Jew” in the Mamet acting company, and he calls out the “great Charlotte” who played the Assistant Librarian. Although Mamet states that the library scene is pivotal in the transition of Gold’s character (where does the hero belong? etc.), he also refers to the reel librarian as “head of the Jewish whatever-it-is.” Sigh.

And he addresses the smoking, too, in this commentary:  ”That’s why I used to do a lot of writing in law libraries around the country, because they let you smoke in them. And also they didn’t ask you for any identification, because you know, who would pretend to be a lawyer?” How long ago did Mamet write in law libraries? The 1960s? The 1970s? Surely that has changed by now. And by the way, law libraries are NOT the same thing as special archives libraries. No smoking allowed!

William H. Macy’s reaction to the smoking? “It is an odd choice. Took poor Stevie about 10 years to quit smoking.” Because of this film?! Poor guy. And thank you, William H. Macy, for also thinking all that smoking in the library was weird. Also, you’re the best thing in this movie. Bless. ♥

One last side note: In the gag reel in the Criterion Collection dvd, Goldstein initially misspelled Grofaz as Grozaz (see last screenshot). Woopsie. ;)

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Incident at Dark River

It’s often quite difficult to get copies of TV movies, so I was glad to come across Incident at Dark River (TV, 1989) on my cable’s On Demand listings. And is it just me, or does the alternate title, Dark River: A Father’s Revenge and the corresponding cover make this (rather tame) TV movie look more like a slasher flick?!

Starring veteran TV actors Mike Farrell, Tess Harper, and a young Helen Hunt (!), it tells the story of a father, Tim McFall (Farrell), mourning the sudden death of his daughter. He sets out to investigate and finds out his daughter’s death was caused by toxic waste dumped in the river by the local manufacturing factory, which also happens to be the town’s biggest employer.

About a half hour in, the camera closes in on the the father’s hand as he rifles through a card catalog. Remember those? Ah, good times. Tim’s a college professor, so he’s most likely at the college library. He takes a file drawer to his table, which is scattered with various thick volumes, and he scribbles something down.

The interior of the library is quite dimly lit, with large white poles, fluorescent lights, and rows of tightly arranged bookshelves (see below). Is the dark lighting reflective of the father’s despair, or is it just the low budget showing its seams? I was not quick-witted enough to take note of the credits at the time of viewing (and the TV movie has since disappeared from my On Demand listings), but I did manage to track down online the TV movie’s filming location:  Weber County and its county seat, Ogden. I’m not sure of the exact location used for the university scenes, but the most likely candidate is Weber State University.

So after scribbling down some notes, the father rises from the library table. In this long shot, we can see a long table in the forefront, with a computer keyboard and monitor. We are then introduced to the back of the librarian. This is a common way to introduce a reel librarian (see my post about The Good Companions), as it visually deemphasizes the librarian in a supporting role.

The unnamed librarian (Michaela Nelligan) is a middle-aged white female, dressed conservatively in a button-up shirt and dark, long-sleeved cardigan. Her dark brown hair is pulled back in a bun (see screenshot below).

The father hands the librarian the slip of paper, obviously having written down a specific resource.

Tim:  Sorry I keep doing this.

Librarian [looking up and closing a book]:   It’s no problem. You know we have a club here on campus for people who are concerned about the environment.

Tim:  Actually, I didn’t know that.

Librarian:  Well, it just occurred to me that if you’re researching something specific they might be able to tell you where to look.

Tim:  Thank you.

Librarian:  Sure. [walks off, presumably to obtain the resource he's wanting]

Although we never see more than 3/4 of her face (see above) and the scene only lasts about a minute, the librarian proves herself a useful Information Provider in this Class IV TV movie. She helps to propel the plot and is quite pleasant and efficient. She reinforces the idea that she’s an academic librarian, by mentioning the “club here on campus.” However, she is actually in a better position to help him than the environment club; in the next scene, Tim goes to the club and basically has to educate them himself on the issues of pollution and its effects on the local water supply.

And as a side note, you never need to apologize for asking a librarian a question. That’s why we’re here! :)

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If looks could kill

First things first:  No, I have not read the books yet. Second: The trilogy is on my reading list, I promise. And third: I also plan on watching the original Swedish film adaptations starring Noomi Rapace. So this will not be a compare-and-contrast post.

Ok, now that’s all cleared up. The hubby and I caught this 2011 American version of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo on our On Demand listings, and we were definitely in the right mood for this dark tale. The movie is tense and visually stunning — David Fincher films are never anything less than well done — and I found Rooney Mara’s performance as Lisbeth Salander riveting. I simply couldn’t take my eyes off her whenever she was onscreen (and considering the allure of Daniel Craig and his covetous wardrobe, that’s saying something). The only thing that really irritated me about the film (other than a few plot holes, or rather, leaps, that I’m sure are better explained in the book) was Daniel Craig’s tendency to hang his glasses down from his ears. NO ONE does that. Seriously. I should start another blog on the misuse and abuse of spectacles in film.

Anyway… Imagine my pleasure at discovering a reel librarian! Of course, Lisbeth would make a kick-ass librarian if she set her mind to it, but let’s be thankful she makes for a kick-ass investigator instead. She does plenty of research (on Google and Wikipedia) along with a generous amount of computer hacking. But while searching online for similar cases of past murders, she does employ the classic research techniques of Boolean operators and keywords in the midst of her search strings and queries (see below). ♥

So a little after an hour and a half into the film, Mikael and Lisbeth get permission to use the Vanger Industry’s corporate records, and Lisbeth gets right to work in the archives. This REALLY disgruntles the archivist librarian, who wastes no time casting dirty looks and tight-lipped smiles in Lisbeth’s direction. Although never referred to by name in the film, I did my own research and found the archivist listed in the credits as Lindgren, played by Anne-Li Norberg.

Lindgren has short, slicked-down hair, and dark, conservative wardrobe consisting of a greyish buttoned-up shirt, long cardigan, black skirt, black tights, and flat shoes (so sensible!). I almost wished for glasses hanging off a lanyard, just to complete the stereotypical image of the Spinster Librarian (see below).

Girl, I don't have time for this crap!

In the archivist’s spacious office, we spy a computer — which looks positively ancient and old-fashioned when contrasted with Lisbeth’s Mac, as does Lindgren herself when contrasted with Lisbeth, hmmm — plus a typewriter, stacked files, and boxes of notecards.

Lindgren:  Are you finished?

Lisbeth: I need to know where all factories, offices and projects were from 1949 to 1966.

Lindgren: You already have everything.

Lisbeth:  No, I don’t. Nothing on subsidiary corporations, partnerships, or suppliers.

Lindgren: Then you’ll have to do without.

Lisbeth: Mr. Frode said I have access to whatever I need. This is what I need.

Lindgren: He said you have access to THIS floor.

Lisbeth: Call him.

Yeah, you know Lindgren’s repeating some choice words in her head after that exchange! The next frame highlights another tight-lipped expression on her face. And score one for accuracy, we also get treated  to a shot of her pulling on white cotton gloves in preparation for handling archives.

No problem, I'll push this cart all by myself. It's in the reel librarian job description, after all.

Next, the archivist’s shown on a ladder, with Lisbeth studiously ignoring gestures to help out with the heavy volumes. After all, we wouldn’t want to be deprived of Lindgren pushing the cart full of heavy books (see right). How else would we know she’s a reel librarian? ;)

At an hour and forty-five minutes, this reel librarian has had enough, with the announcement, “We’re closing.” Lisbeth doesn’t even look up, and Lindgren is forced to admit that she’s not authorized to stay late. Lisbeth’s response? “I am. And I need access to everything, including anything that’s locked. Call Frode.”

So the long-suffering Lindgren locks up, sighs, drops her keys on the table behind Lisbeth, and tries to salvage one last shred of authority by stating, “Leave the keys with the guard.”

I've had enough. I'm going home.

But this reel librarian does NOT go gently into that good night. We hear later from Martin Vanger (Stellan Skarsgård), the head of Vanger Industries, that he had heard from their archives manager, who was “very perturbed with this girl Lisbeth.” And she wasn’t even subjected to witnessing Lisbeth’s eating and drinking coffee (from a cup with no lid, no less!) while walking through the stacks.

What Lisbeth finds in those archives does not actually advance the plot all that much in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, as Mikael also comes to the same conclusion regarding the killer’s identity, albeit from a different route. But as one reviewer points out, “Fincher may be overrated as a director, but he can sure build suspense and dread. Witness the fine job he does near the end of the film with Lisbeth combing through the archives of the Vangers’ company. Not every director can wring tension from such an innocuous setting.” Although personally rolling my eyes at the phrase ‘innocuous setting,’ the point is well-made.

If looks could kill

So there you have it. A typical Spinster Librarian with a sliver of Information Provider (she helps establish the archives setting, and she does retrieve the archival volumes, albeit most unwillingly), similar in the vein of Eily Malyon in Shadow of a Doubt (1943). Lindgren gets enough screen time — and enough “looks could kill” close-ups (see right) — to join the Class III category of reel librarian portrayals.

One last note:  About an hour into the film, reporter Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig) visits the local newspaper office, Destads Kuriren (Destads Courier, according to Google Translate), and peruses photo archives in a back office with the help of a woman (Sandra Andreis). I’m not, however, including this woman as a reel librarian, because (a) the local newspaper office is probably too small to staff an actual archivist, and (b), this role is billed as Photo Editor.

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Not your typical Last Supper

The Last Supper (1995) focuses on five liberal grad students, rooming together in a big Iowa farmhouse. Smugly proud of their forward-thinking ways, they nonetheless find themselves succumbing to murderous temptations when faced with extreme right-wing thinkers at their dinner table. Funny how those tomato plants in the backyard keep multiplying…

This little-known film pulls together threads of pitch-black comedy and morality puzzlers like in Hitchcock’s Rope. And for such a small-scale film, it boasts quite a number of star cameos, including Bill Paxton, Charles Durning, Mark Harmon, and Ron Perlman. Annabeth Gish was arguably the biggest “name” in the cast at the time the film was released, but it also stars Cameron Diaz and Courtney B. Vance in roles before they hit it big. Alas, the most interesting bits in the film are the opening (and ending) credits, which could illustrate an anthology of Flannery O’Connor‘s most disturbing short stories.

*SPOILER ALERT*

So how does the reel librarian, played by South African actress and award-winning playwright Pamela Gien, end up in this Class III film? Dead, of course, with a knife in her back. Thaaaaat’s gotta hurt.

But let me back up a bit. How does she end up dead? A little over 50 minutes into the film, this (gotta be) single white female finds herself at the head of the table. Although obviously quite young, her conservative dress; minimal, if any, makeup; and nondescript hairstyle age her considerably. Strike one.

Who, me? The 'Illiterate Librarian' in The Last Supper

This meek librarian’s mannerisms also convey her inner Puritan; she puts her hand across her chest and also uses it covers her mouth, almost as if to block any direct, or indirect, contact. Strike two.

And then she opens her mouth, speaking in a high-pitched, nervous voice:

Catcher in the Rye is supposed to be art? Thumbelina is art. Catcher in the Rye is just mean-spirited garbage littered with the “F” word.

Strike three!

They all laugh, and Luke (Courtney B. Vance) proclaims, “I’ve heard enough. How about a toast?” (FYI, they’d been killing people with poisoned wine.)

Interrupted by the doorbell, three of the wannabe philosophers leave the room. They come back to find the reel librarian draped over a chair, stabbed in the back. Why? Because she didn’t drink wine. (Of course! Strike four!)

That's gotta hurt

Although we actually do learn her name throughout the scene, Barbara Mensa, this Comic Relief librarian gets credited as “The Illiterate Librarian.” And she continues to inspire controversy after her demise.

Marc (Jonathan Penner): ”But look at her. She was just an illiterate. I mean, we’re getting out of hand.”

Paulie (Annabeth Gish): “They’re not people. They’re people who hate.”

Jude (Cameron Diaz):  ”What are you talking about? She just had bad taste.”

So there you have it. Fellow librarians, dissing Catcher in the Rye in public can lead to very bad things. I’ll be keeping my own opinions on that controversial classic to myself. ;)

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Calling all the beautiful girls

I caught Beautiful Girls (1996) on Hulu recently. For a movie that explores different versions of masculine ambivalence on the eve of a high school reunion (a reunion in winter? huh?), it comes as no surprise that it’s hard to feel anything but ambivalence toward the movie itself. I had seen it once before, years ago, and it was memorable only in my memory for featuring a young Natalie Portman (albeit in a slightly creepy subplot). It’s the kind of movie that substitutes songs for character development.

So about a half hour into the film, hapless girlfriend Sharon (Mira Sorvino) commiserates with her girlfriends about her cheating boyfriend Tommy (Matt Dillon).

Her friend Gina (Rosie O’Donnell) cheers her up by painting this scenario:

You’re going to have to break up with him, and you’re going to have to break up with him now. Now getting over him, that’s going to be the hard part. I know. Believe me, I know. It’s true. At first, after the breakup, you’ll have these visions. Of you alone, 57, 58, walking around wearing a nightgown, your hair in a bun. Maybe you’re a librarian, heating up a can of soup for one and worrying about the cobwebs that are growing in your womb.

Again, the specter of the Spinster Librarian nightmare. Gee, thanks.

At this point, I thought, ok, it’s going to be a Class V film, one that mentions a librarian but doesn’t include an actual librarian. But I was wrong.

An hour and ten minutes in, right after another inspiring soliloquy, this one by actor Michael Rappaport about the allure of supermodels (“A beautiful girl can make you dizzy, like you’ve been drinking Jack and Coke all morning”) we cut to a scene in the public library, where Tommy is trying to end his affair with Darian (Lauren Hutton). Is it merely coincidence that a librarian — this time an actual one — provides the backdrop for yet another breakup scene? Methinks perhaps not.

The librarian in Beautiful Girls

The older female librarian (uncredited) is standing up behind the circulation desk, checking out books to a couple of young boys. Her grey bobbed hair and bangs match her grey blazer, and her glasses sit low on her nose. No lanyard or bun in sight, thank goodness. She sits down as the camera pans to the back of the library toward Tommy and Darian. The bit of the desk visible reveals the standard movie props for libraries:  stacks of books, a globe, a carousel of book stamps, a small card file, a bookstand, and in a nod to modern technology, a computer and scanner. Your average Information Provider, elevating the film into the Class IV category.

This scene was filmed at Franklin Library, a branch library of the Minneapolis Public Library system. This site provides a very thorough exploration of the filming location, plus more recent photos of this beautiful Carnegie library.

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